


To Make It Okay

by shetookyourbreathaway



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/F, GNC JJ, Gender Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:46:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27698488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shetookyourbreathaway/pseuds/shetookyourbreathaway
Summary: All she needed to do was get out, and then everything would be okay, right?
Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 4
Kudos: 94





	To Make It Okay

**Author's Note:**

> I have been wildly inspired by James's (SloanGreyMercyDeath) idea of a gnc JJ, or JJ struggling with her gender identity after having feminine gender roles imposed on her growing up in a small town, so here is my take on it.

JJ was good at being a girl until she was 14. Growing up, she let her mom dress her all in pink, she took ballet, she dedicated herself to dance, ruffles and glitter, and high-waisted skirts that twirled sweetly around her. Sure, she hated parts of her body, but didn’t everyone? Every girl she knew wished that she was skinnier and taller and her thighs didn’t touch. They all crowded around the latest teen magazine and “oooh”ed and “ahhh”ed at how gorgeous the girls on the glossy pages looked. That was normal. She just wanted to stare at pictures of them, and read every interview they had done; they were  _ all _ slightly in love with those girls, right? They just wanted to be them, to live their lives, have their bodies... It was normal.

And then Ros died, and nothing was normal for a very long time. The walls closed in and the nights grew long, and JJ was no longer just “the girl without a dad;” she was “the girl with the dead sister.” Suddenly, everything in East Allegheny was far too small and everything reminded her of Ros, and most days, JJ felt like she couldn’t breathe. The noise became static, and nothing else really mattered besides the fact she didn’t have a sister anymore.

At 13, JJ quit ballet. She didn’t love it quite the way she used to, with the hours growing longer and the competition between the girls getting ever-fiercer, and besides, ballet wasn’t going to get her out of this godforsaken town. It didn’t help that the skin-tight leotards made JJ squirm, and she hated looking at herself in the wall-to-wall mirrors. Her arches weren’t perfect, and her hips didn’t turn out enough, and she hated the way her curves looked in the mirrors, and she once caught herself wishing she had the legs and hips of an eight-year-old boy. That wasn’t healthy, right? So, she quit ballet and took up soccer.

On the soccer team, she could be loud, she could be aggressive, she could grow muscles. For the first time, she found herself being proud of what her body could do, not just what it looked like. Out of the soft, ladylike curves of ballet, she developed her first real muscles... and she loved it. Loved the excitement of competition, the screams of her teammates, the burn of her leg muscles as she sprinted down the field. She loved the way she looked in her soccer shorts and sports bra, the muscles in her legs and core growing more defined as training went on. 

Most of all, she loved that she was good enough at it that it might get her out of small town Pennsylvania. Because she  _ was _ good. Good enough to attract the attention of a few college scouts. So, she worked at it, day in and day out, putting in extra hours of practice and stretching and icing her aching joints, because god help her, she had to get out of this suffocating little town where nothing ever felt right.

The girls on her team were wonderful. They were her best friends. Some of them were also absolutely beautiful... especially Samantha Green. The way the sun reflected off the highlights in her hair, her stunningly blue eyes, and the way her teeth flashed when she laughed... Samantha was gorgeous. And not just “I want to be her gorgeous,” JJ wanted to kiss her.

One night, JJ worked up the courage to text her childhood best friend.

“I think... I think I might like girls,” to which her only reply was, “Okay, but do you think your mom will be okay with that?”

Of course, the answer in JJ’s mind was a resounding “no,” so she tabled that thought, pushing it to the back of her mind in favor of SATs and applying for soccer scholarships and trying to graduate top of her class. All she had to focus on was getting out of East Allegheny,  _ right _ ? It was time to grow up.

So, she ditched the cutesy skirts (which she never really felt comfortable in anyways), and kept her hair tied back in a ponytail every day to keep it out of her way, putting on a full face of makeup to cover up her under-eye circles from working until all hours of the night to keep her grades up. She needed to focus on exams, and textbooks, and excelling on the soccer field. 

Some nights after she finished her last assignments at 1 am, she would snag the keys to the family pickup truck and cruise the backroads of her small town, blasting rock music so loud that she couldn’t think. She’d keep driving and driving until she could map every route out of town with her eyes closed and her throat hurt from screaming the angry lyrics. All she needed to do was get out, and then everything would be okay, right?

And so, when JJ arrived at college, she wasn’t really sure what to do. She had gotten out... right? So what now? Everyone at college was so different from what she was used to. Her roommate had a nose piercing, and the girl down the hall had a girlfriend, and at least three girls in her residence hall cut all of their hair off that first semester. People came to class wearing whatever they wanted: full-skirted dresses, pajamas, button-down shirts, weird combinations of clothes that JJ would have never dared wear to her small East Allegheny high school.

Slowly, she adapted. Her teammates taught her how to French braid and Dutch braid, and she learned that she really liked the way her long hair looked tied back in two tight braids. She stopped wearing makeup, because college students are tired all the time anyways, right? And besides, she didn’t have time to do her makeup after practice. She ditched the uncomfortable padded bras that made her breasts look full and round in favor of bralettes and sports bras, which were so much more comfortable, and besides, she was wearing her sweaty practice gear to most classes anyways. She started wearing men’s deodorant because she liked the way it smelled, and she was an athlete and it lasted longer anyways, right?

JJ went to parties some weekends, drinking until the world felt warm and a little blurry, and it didn’t hurt so much anymore. She kissed a couple girls and a couple guys, enjoying their soft hands, hot mouths, and demanding bodies, because there was nothing sweeter than being wanted. But mostly, she was just lost. Sure, she had gotten out. She had left her small town, which was all she ever wanted. But what the hell should she do now?

The answer came in the form of a talk given by David Rossi. He talked about analyzing criminal behavior, going out into the field, and tracking down dangerous killers. The promise of fights and danger, and maybe having a  _ real _ purpose in the world, sent an excited shiver down JJ’s spine. At the end of the talk, Agent Rossi gave out business cards and applications for the FBI training program. JJ took both. For the first time since she graduated high school, she had a goal.

So, JJ joined the FBI. She learned about firearms and domestic terrorism, surveillance and how to throw a real punch (as opposed to that one time she had punched a guy who tried to get too handsy with her in high school and ended up with a broken thumb). And after several years of working, and training, and relentlessly pushing herself to excel, she became the media liaison for the BAU. Closet freshly stocked with “professional, working woman’s” clothing, she left her small apartment in DC each morning to sort through cases, deal with the press, and help the BAU team catch killers. She was made up, manicured, everything people expected a media professional to be, and the team caught bad guy after bad guy, and everything was perfect, right? Except it wasn’t.

Despite having gotten out of small town Pennsylvania, despite getting her dream job... JJ couldn’t shake the feeling that something about this wasn’t right. She wasn’t satisfied. She was everything she was ever supposed to be and more, but some nights all she could do was stare at the darkened walls of her bedroom and want to scream. It wasn’t enough.

That was just how it was until the day that Emily Prentiss walked into her life. One look at the stunningly-beautiful, raven-haired agent was enough to send her reeling. Emily was smart, strong, badass, everything she could ever want in a partner, and somehow, by some miracle, Emily wanted her, too. So, they started dating: spending quiet evenings together at one another’s apartments, or in dim hotel rooms, dinners, and days in the park when they could, and eventually making things official and telling the team about their relationship. JJ no longer spent nights staring at her dark ceiling and trying not to let her thoughts spiral, because she was wrapped up warm in Emily’s arms. She no longer stayed at the office too late and “forgot” to eat dinner, because now there was someone she wanted to go home to, someone she wanted to share meals with. Emily Prentiss had made her life ten times richer and brighter; she loved everything about her, and Emily loved her too. And everything was perfect, right?

But still, there was something not right. JJ just assumed it was  _ her _ — the quiet itching at the back of her brain— it must be trauma, the difficulty of their jobs, the ever-present ache of losing Ros; it must be her own fault she wasn’t satisfied, wasn’t content with her perfect life.

Then one day, she was interviewing a witness, a teenager with gorgeous long blonde hair, similar to JJ’s own, and a flannel, who introduced themselves with:

“Hi, I’m Max, and I use she/they pronouns.”

JJ could barely focus on their statement. Her mind was spinning and something felt like it might be beginning to click.

She tried not to think about it at first. The way she preferred wearing massively oversized t-shirts on her days off. The way she strongly preferred to look at herself in sports bras and gym clothes. The way that, as a kid, she used to love to wear her dad’s jackets that he had left behind . Her hatred of skirts, and how sometimes she bought sneakers from the boy’s section of stores. Her dislike of makeup, and her preference for men’s shampoo and deodorant, which Emily thought she smelled so good in.

For years now, she had assumed that she just... didn’t want men to notice her because she had a girlfriend and didn’t want to date them. She didn’t want them perceiving and judging her existence as a potential girlfriend. However, she realized with a start, the idea of being perceived as not-a-woman, not a girly-girl, not entirely female... was far more appealing. The idea of tightly-tied back hair and men’s office wear that hid her curves made her stomach drop like she was on a roller coaster, made her almost squirm with excitement in that police office seat.

Back home, after a couple glasses of wine, she stutters her way through an explanation to Emily, who takes it in stride: no shock, no adjustment period, just a hug and unconditional supportiveness, and suddenly, JJ is filled with joy. Something more powerful and energizing than they’ve felt in years.

They sit together later that night, ordering a binder and some men’s button downs online. The next weekend, Emily wields a shaver, buzzing off the bottom of JJ’s hair to give them an undercut, and when she’s done, she reverently runs her fingers through the peach fuzz, grabbing the nape of JJ’s neck and kissing them hard. Emily watches JJ put on a suit, and helps them learn how to tie their first tie, and when she sits back in satisfaction and says,“Damn, babe, you look so handsome,” JJ has to choke back tears. They decide, instead, to pin Emily against the nearest available wall, and kiss her breathless. They feel  _ powerful _ under Emily’s accepting and appreciative stare, and they want to show her just how much they love her for it. The two of them finally fall into bed, several hours later, completely spent.

When they finally work up the courage to talk to the team, Spencer is endlessly excited for them. Morgan immediately declares that they’re going to have to have a “boy’s night,” which they resist pointing out the two of them already do on a regular basis during basketball season. Garcia squeals and wraps them in a tight hug, and Hotch is slightly confused, but supportive.

It’s not perfect— it may never be, JJ is starting to learn— but for the first time in a long time, maybe the first time since Ros died, they feel at peace. Like they might really, truly belong in this life, in this body, and in this tight-knit makeshift family they’ve come to call their own.


End file.
